


Roll the Tape

by farfetched



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Films, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Watching Movies, with some rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: It had been a ‘oh, it’s you’ type of moment.In the dark haven of a cinema, Futakuchi meets Ennoshita; but they keep meeting. They meet through first year, and second, they become captains together and approach the end of their high schools careers, hoping it doesn't spell the end of them.
Relationships: Ennoshita Chikara/Futakuchi Kenji
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	Roll the Tape

It had been an ‘oh, it’s you’ type of moment.

Kenji vaguely recalls him from somewhere, the person blocking his path to his seat. It's a simple bit of logic to say it's probably from volleyball or school, and the way he squints up at him indicates he's making the same kind of thoughts. It's a little funny, that face. Even though the cinema is kind of dark, if he racks his brains, that face is a little familiar. 

"Ah, Futakuchi-san," the man says mildly. Kenji nods, still trying to work out whether he should know his name. If he's a bench warmer, there's every chance he won't. Still, it hardly matters—all he has to do is get to his seat and he can ignore this. 

Except– his seat is right next to the bench warmer's. He snorts to himself. 

"Guess we're seat buds, uh..." It's going to piss him off now, so he doesn't feel too guilty about fishing for a name. He squints at him, and he just gets watched for a good second, long enough that it becomes faintly uncomfortable. 

"Ennoshita Chikara," he returns. Kenji smirks. 

"It was on the tip of my tongue." 

Ennoshita rolls his eyes. 

"I bet it was." 

He'll make a note of it. Next time, it really will be on the tip of his tongue. 

* * *

Apparently, Ennoshita doesn't get too annoyed at his snorts and sardonic comments under his breath, even huffing a laugh at one of them. It's only natural that Kenji should explain some of them once the film ends as they’re walking out, Kenji slowing his steps just slightly. Ennoshita laughs, a hearty thing that echoes into Kenji’s chest, and adds comments of his own, shedding new light onto scenes that Kenji had dismissed easily.

Ennoshita is clearly very into films. It's- fun. Sometimes Kenji’s days seem evenly split between school, sleep and volleyball, so he loves seeing films; he loves the escapism of it. For an hour and a half or so, he can be anywhere, do anything, be anyone. Nobody in Dateko really likes films that much—sure, they'll go with him to see the latest thing, but only if he really makes a point to ask. 

Ennoshita is far better to watch films with. They even walk the same way back to the bus stop, even if the buses they take are different, and Kenji will chatter on with him for ages. Once, he missed his bus because they'd just been in the middle of a really interesting conversation about open endings. 

Kenji doesn't regret it at all. 

It grows into a thing. Sometimes they'll find themselves in a coffee shop, afterwards, if it's been an earlier showing, or sometimes a fast food place. The conversations diverge from just films and volleyball, their two commonalities, to wider topics. 

Kenji is enjoying himself. Far too much, probably, but he's not one to deny himself pleasures. 

And so, weekend by weekend, film by film, he learns about Ennoshita. 

He's there when Ennoshita quits the club. He's there when he returns, encouragement disguised under jokes. He's there when they turn into second years, and he's there, so there to complain about the new first years. Boy does Kenji complain about the first years. 

(Kenji is kind of an asshole, but then Ennoshita isn't the nicest person either, so they get on.)

(Ennoshita tells him that Tanaka and Nishinoya think it is too well. Far too well.) 

(Kenji is inclined to agree. But he's never been much of one to bow to other people. He's having too much fun.)

Kenji learns all about the wild first years of Karasuno, how the new captain Sawamura is dealing with them (admirably, and probably better than Moniwa does with Koganegawa. Kenji likes him but damn, that man does not have a stern bone in his body. Or Kenji hasn't found it yet. A failing, really.) 

He’s there before Nationals, a seething disappointment warring with the desire for Karasuno to win and keep winning. He’s there after Nationals, Ennoshita emotionally exhausted and physically too, still processing.

He's there when Ennoshita gets voted captain. 

Ennoshita seems surprised—Kenji isn't. He sees the leadership ability of Sawamura in him, the authoritative streak and just enough sadism to make him okay to deal punishments should they need to be meted. 

Ennoshita doesn't see it in himself, but when Kenji looks at Ennoshita, he sees the Director, who maybe isn't perfect but is perfectly willing to learn. 

They support each other, quietly, through the trials of captaincy, of returning seniors and that doubt. They both swear they will win and be the best captain, but it is one thing to say and another to Know. 

Another Knowing is that they cannot both win. But they ignore it for film dates and coffee breaks. Sometimes they'll visit each other's houses and have a movie marathon of ones that are not in the cinema, haven't been for years. He discovers a hidden soft spot for really bad films, the way that Ennoshita just looks at them differently; the way he will look at camera angles and music choices. A film is more to Ennoshita; it is a world within a world—he is the person watching the extras to learn about the making, the special effects, watching interviews with directors and producers and backstage staff; figuring it out. 

And Kenji... Well, Kenji loves listening to him getting so enthusiastic about filmography. Kenji loves films but Ennoshita is on another level, and Kenji thinks that like being a good captain, he will be a good director, able to bring people together and push them to their best. 

He hopes he's with him to see it happen. 

* * *

Their third year of high school is dragging to a close. The winter seemed endless—Kenji handing over to Fukiage, a vice-captain in Koganegawa to keep him from moping (although he, like all of them, has grown into his skin so much), and watching Karasuno claw their way through Nationals with gritted teeth and determined eyes. Ennoshita, meeting each game with a ferocious desire to win, to keep winning, to not go home today, or today, or today, to not make this game their last—his last as their captain. 

Ennoshita had agonised over who to vote for to follow after him. Kenji had pointed out that it was simple, really, because he already knew. 

Tsukishima didn't really want it. Hinata would rather focus on his own volleyball. Same with Kageyama, really. Kageyama didn't really have the people skills to pass it off. Leaving, by a process of elimination…

More than that, though, Yamaguchi knows what it has been to struggle. To fight and fight for a place—knows what it is to watch from the sidelines and analyse in a way the others may not have. He knows what it is to fail, and build yourself back up. He's good at identifying strengths and weaknesses, and he will treat everyone equally. 

Yamaguchi is a natural choice, Ennoshita knows that. The others would not be a bad choice, because they all care about the volleyball club, but Yamaguchi would be able to think further, to act beyond, and to be a captain. Like Sawamura. 

Like Ennoshita himself. 

Ennoshita laughed when Kenji told him that, but he thinks, for once, he has started to actually see that in himself. There's a belief in his eyes, a certainty that had been missing before, that had once been extinguished and over this year has built into a healthy knowledge of his own abilities. 

Kenji is going to miss him. Ennoshita is destined for greater things, he's sure; he won't stay in Miyagi to pursue them, not when he could go anywhere else to find the expertise and practice to get there. Kenji is going to miss his film partner, his personal critic, his cinematography expert, his ego deflater, his best friend, his- 

Well. Kenji doesn't like to think in impossibles, because few things truly are, but he's not going to stop Ennoshita leaving. Maybe Kenji will see his name on a film poster in a few years’ time and he'll go watch it and smile because he'll probably like it, too. Maybe he’ll see some nod to himself in a background character, a rival, a love interest.

And he’ll apprentice with his grandfather and his mother and think of Ennoshita when he watches a film. Kimonos and the dyeing industry are interesting, and his father says he can turn a sweet tongue when he wants to, especially with tourists. He will… find someone to settle down with, someone who, like him, doesn’t have worldwide plans for their future.

Although he’ll give himself some time to hurt, first. It doesn’t have to be the end, anyway—he has Ennoshita’s number and he can bother him for a while. If Futakuchi Kenji is anything, it’s tenacious. Or maybe just stubborn and troublesome. Either or.

He has one last date with Ennoshita, though. It’s a film they’ve both been excited to see, and Kenji has it planned; they’ll go see that, and then go to a fast food place until it shuts. If Kenji gathers the courage to say anything, well great. If not, well… he’ll just have to cope, mope at home and get over it.

Getting over it being the key part, and also the hardest. Ennoshita is- is special to him, now.

* * *

The film is great, awesome, mind-blowing. The action was perfect, on point, the comedy hit and made him double over with laughter at times, the heart-wrenching moments nearly made him cry, which is no easy task. He didn’t even think to take a drink. It’s everything he’s been looking for in a film, and he’s definitely going to be back here again. For now though, he’s gonna discuss it with Ennoshita as long as possible.

They look at each other, waiting as most of the cinema empties out.

“Fools,” Kenji remarks scathingly, “Don’t they know this studio always does an after-credits sequence?” Ennoshita snorts, which only spurs him on. “Amateurs.”

“Rookie error,” Ennoshita comments idly. “Dismissing the credits, too.”

Kenji nods, and then pointedly looks away. If he keeps looking, he’ll be tempted.

“Where were you going for uni, again?” Diversion. He probably should have said something before now. He might end up regretting this.

“I’m staying in Sendai,” Ennoshita says.

“Wait, what?” Kenji doesn’t quite get it. What does he mean, isn’t he going to Hollywood or something?

“You sound disappointed,” Ennoshita comments, and Kenji can’t help but laugh.

“Disappointed? Me? Psssh. Like hell.” Sendai. Sendai? But they’re in Sendai right now, and Ennoshita will be a maximum of an hour away, and- Kenji would be able to-

His plans of getting over it evaporate into thin air. His future of lonely kimono making open up into film dates and volleyball matches, neighbourhood teams maybe.

“You sound it,” Ennoshita murmurs, more than a small element of hurt. Kenji whips his head around.

“Ennoshita, I _like_ you, why the fuck would I be disappointed.”

The credits finish a second later.

Probably, in a romance novel or movie, whatever, the end credits sequence goes on behind them without either of them realising and it’s a big mushy moment.

What _actually_ happens is Kenji actively watches it intensely, partly because he’s interested, partly because he’s trying desperately to pretend he didn’t just say that like he did. It teases the next film. Ennoshita snorts at it. Probably it. Hopefully not Kenji.

It’s only when the lights come on that he replies.

“So you like me. Have you been thinking of these as dates?” Ennoshita says. Kenji’s eyes go wide and he presses his mouth shut.

Internally: _shit shit shit shit shit._

Externally: the same but silent.

“That’s good. That makes the two of us.”

Kenji whips his head around so fast his vision spins. Ennoshita has a faint colour to his cheeks, and he’s not quite looking at Kenji. He’s holding his hands together, and gripping so hard that his knuckles are going white. All Kenji can think is that the man he met two or more years ago would not have been so casual. And he loves it. He wants to see him grow more, wants to submit himself to the sass, to give it back, to learn what Ennoshita is, inside and out, back to front.

“Let’s make it official then. This. Us.” Kenji says, with all the confidence he’s only pretending to have. Ennoshita looks at him again, a coy smile on his lips.

“Why, ask me out on a date first,” he says, and Kenji grins.

“I already did. A thousand times.”

And he’ll do it a thousand more times before he’s bored. Or more. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for 'Director's Cut', an Ennoshita Chikara zine that I'm ecstatic to have been a part of, working with so many talented people and lovely mods too! I hope you enjoyed this piece!


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